Applause

Applause

I’ve been here many times,
as their childhood has flown past

Sitting alone in the crowd
smiling, and having a blast
A proud, dedicated single parent
gathering memories that will last

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She weaves her way through a defense

that had previously refused to yield
Deft footwork and bursts of speed
guide her down the field
I spring from the edge of my seat
as a late victory is sealed

My legs, energized by her exploit
My lungs, filled with a rush of air
An abrupt acknowledgment of her endeavor
as I quickly rise up from my chair
Emphatic words in a father’s approval
ecstatic to be right there

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I see my teenage powerhouse
as she tumbles across the floor
A round-off and a back handspring
My gasp, and then a perfect two more
An exalted, frightening, wonderful feeling
that resonates to my core

My stomach, churning when she jumps
My heart, leaping when she lands
The uniquely exhilarating anguish
that any parent understands
Proud, as I put down the camera
to free up my hands

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The impetus for my applause
Feats that constantly astound
No urge to look beside me
No need to look around
My two hands, together in the crowd
making their own sound


It seems to me that it’s a graceful gazelle
that suddenly emerges from the pack
Anticipating the exact moment
from my spot along the track
As she glides around the final curve
the others get further and further back

My mind, racing with her to the finish
My senses, tingling from the start
The extent of her accomplishments
matching the size of her heart
Knowing the work ethic and the effort
that always set her apart

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Being early gets me a good seat
Dead center, given the chance
Oblivious of my surroundings
I listen to her play, I watch her dance
Happily lost, inside of myself
My own choice, my soul circumstance

My eyes, no matter what her stage
My ears, for any of the bands
The selfish, singular focus
that any parent understands
Proud, as I put the program down
to free up my hands

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The inspiration for my applause
Daughters who constantly astound
No urge to look beside me
No need to look around
My t
wo hands, together in the crowd
making their own sound


Sitting alone, in the crowd

as each new season has passed
Thankful for each new memory
as time ticks by so fast
Never wondering, or worrying,
if this one will be the last

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Talker

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Talker

Standing trial in plain sight
and dominating my news
Rubbing it in the face
of my moral views
A defense of discredit
with the dirt that it spews
Spitting out the seeds
that a narcissist chews

Smooth talker
talking your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Squeaky clean persona,
not what he seems
Taking his advantage
to filthy extremes

Guilty in the court of perception,
clear in the public eye
Allegation after allegation
and the numbers can’t lie
Powerless victims
to your privileged high
Objectifying and brutalizing,
then justifying why

Smooth talker
getting your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Taking your hold
from that lofty perch
The relentless entitlement
of your selfish search

I can’t begin to understand,
even know where to start
Unable to comprehend
as it tears at my heart
What allows a man to exploit
the capacity of his art
To take malleable lives
and rip them apart

Smooth talker
having your way
As much who you are
as what you say

Crumbling a fresh flower
just because you can
Holding her dignity
in the palm of your hand

 

 

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